Technology Impaired
by Dancing Feather
Summary: An introspective on what a Muggle born child could be thinking being sent to a place as crazy as Hogwarts. :oneshot: Not everyone can adjust to the life of a wizard.


Please excuse me if this was done already. J. K. Rowling owns HP, Xing Li owns and I wrote this story without pay. If you see any spelling, grammatical errors or bad story telling, I would love a correction.

For those unfamiliar with my work, this is not a parody of the humorous sort. I am just rather tired of all of these Muggle born OCs adjusting to wizard life like... magic. Ironically.

* * *

**Technology Impaired**

I rub my hands nervously together before stuffing them between my legs to warm them. I have never been so nervous, and yet so bored. This world is still completely new to me, but I don't know how to introduce myself. So I secluded myself to the back of the train and wait for them to come to me. I crack my knuckles for the forth time, imagining arthritis settling in for early retirement.

Any moment, a kid is going to come into this compartment. Will they be friendly? Cheerful? Cruel? Or will they be like me, and sit as far from me as possible without a word uttered?

_Crack._

My dad told me how jealous he was. My mum kept telling me how I will have so many wonderful adventures and friends. I mean, it's magic! All of those shows I've watched with dragons and unicorns turns out have some base of truth. My life as I knew it, has now changed forever.

"_You will have so much fun!"_

And maybe they're right.

But it doesn't feel like it yet.

I hear some kids come into my car talking excitedly together. Introducing themselves asking what their favorite animal was, what their favorite color was. It almost sounds like they have been waiting their whole lives to come to this... Hogwarts. Not that our whole lives have been very long. Eleven years is just enough to know your personality, but not much else. I open my door, just a little bit, to hear them more clearly.

"_What house do you think you'll go in?"_

"_Oh, please let it be Gryffindor!"_

"_Ha! You think you're cool enough to be in Gryffindor?"_

"_No less than you!"_

I felt a small smile form on my face as I hear their goofy laughter. It would be fun to join in, but what could I say? I once thought of what house I would be in myself, but that was when I thought I would go into a 'normal' private school. Now it seems a talking hat will choose if I am either a bird, a snake, a lion or a badger. I like birds, but it sounds like only the smart kids go into that house. The lion house only takes cool kids and it seems everyone from the snake house is inherently evil. Which sounds really unfair, aren't you suppose to balance out the kids?

But it reminds me of the games I used to play. Where one side was obviously evil, and the other side good. It made it easier to know who to shoot. With a gun of course, or a knife. Or a sword. Never a wand. I didn't play much fantasy games, my excuse before was I thought those were silly, I liked realism.

Well, I'm certainly eating my words now.

But it was another reason I was hiding in the back, it seemed everyone, from seventh year to first was waving that thing around. Why are they doing that? Especially the kids my age? Don't they know it's a weapon? They should keep them in the boxes until they know what the hell they are doing! Mine is still in the box I bought it in, wrapped in rubber bands. The professors will be impressed with me, I'm sure. Either with my diligence or paranoia, I'll find out eventually.

Not all of these kids are born from wizard families, right? Surely there are some kids like me out there. Those who know what a television is, what video games are. Who also thinks this is bollocks. This Hogwarts doesn't allow technology, but what about normal magic homes? If I tried to describe what a PS2 was, if I had the courage, would it be like trying to explain what meat tasted like to a vegan? Mystified but disgusted?

_Crack._

My thumbs are twitching again. I wonder how long they will keep doing that. I miss my Gameboy already, even though that was what I was playing in the car before I got here. I almost finished the level before mum yanked it from my grasp.

"_Not that it will work over there... It's nice to know you won't have any distractions from class!"_

I just got the message that the princess was in another castle, for the tenth time. How is it that playing a game that involved plumbers with magical powers makes for a fun game but to actually have power yourself is just terrifying?

Games are just escapes.

I am not killing real people, just data programed to look like humans. I can turn off the game any time I want to. Go do something else and go back. Here I am on a train to a place my mum or dad have never been to, and there is no off button.

_Crack._

I remember my dad saying when I received my first invitation to Hogwarts. I had to admit the name did sound as if a few teens had been smoking one too many. My mum was a flush of pride though, apparently she was a... squib. So was unable to go with her brothers.

"_Oh dear, how I envy you."_

She was wiping the tears from her eyes after she hugged me. My mum was always my source of security. In her arms the world felt right. But after those words I have never felt so... so lost before. You were raised in the household full of sitcom craziness mum. I can see where you would think this was the opportunity of a lifetime. You were the odd duck in your house, but for me... no. All of my familiars are gone. I cannot play on my Gameboy or PSP. I cannot email on my laptop. The Internet is far beyond my reach. Here I am, eleven years old. Cursing every last candle that was on my cake.

I never was into sports, but rugby is starting to sound more comforting than... Qui-Quidditch? Do these magicians have an equivalent of a music player? I guess techno isn't a genre they listen to here. Pop? Metal?

I guess that is what hurts the most. Not matter where I was in the normal world, I could always have music. When I couldn't bring my games to school or get carsick, I always had a beat to nod to. Now my ears feel oddly empty, all I hear is the sound of the train and chatter from the kids next door.

_Crack._

My fingers have nothing to type on, my thumbs nothing to click on, and my ears have no familiar singing voice. Yes, it would be nice to at least have one of the comforts of home, but I wouldn't mind trading it all.

_Crack._

If only to go home.


End file.
